The Case of the Vanishing Villain

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THE CASE VILLAIN Far

Farley, Carol

THE CASE OF THE VANISHING VILLAIN

Other Avon Camelot Books by Carol Farley

The Mystery of the Fiery Message Mystery of the Fog Man Mystery of the Melted Diamonds Mystery in the Ravine

CAROL FARLEY is the author of many books for young readers, including MYSTERY IN THE RAVINE, MYSTERY OF THE FOG MAN, THE MYSTERY OF THE FIERY MESSAGE and THE MYSTERY OF THE MELTED DIAMONDS, all Avon Camelot books. Carol Farley and her younger sister crossed Lake Michigan

many

times, but,

much

to their

disappointment, they never solved

a mystery aboard the car ferry. She and her husband, in

who now

Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, have four children.

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THE CASE VILLAIN CAROL FARLEY

Illustrated

AN AVON

by

Tom Newsom

K CAMELOT BOOK

THE CASE OF THE VANISHING VILLAIN

is

an original publi-

Avon Books. This work has never before appeared

cation of

in

book

form.

AVON BOOKS A division of The Hearst Corporation 1790 Broadway

New

New

York,

Copyright

©

York 10019

1986 by Carol Farley

Published by arrangement with the author Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 85-28745

ISBN: 0-380-89959-0 RL: 5.3

Diagram of ferry deck by Gwen Montgomery All rights reserved, which includes the right to

reproduce

this

book or portions thereof

any form

in

whatsoever except as provided by the U.

S.

Copyright Law.

For information address Gloria Mosseson Agency, 290 West End Avenue,

New

New

York,

York 10023.

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Farley, Carol

J.

The case of

the vanishing villain.

Summary: Two escaped convict, [1.

trapped in a ship on Lake Michigan with an

discover his whereabouts and bring him to justice.

Mystery and detective

PZ7.F233Cas First

sisters,

try to

Camelot

1986

Printing,

stories.

[Fie]

May

2. Sisters

85-28745

1986

CAMELOT TRADEMARK REG US PAT OFF AN IN OTHER COUNTRIES. MARCA REGISTRADA. HECHO EN U

S A.

Printed in the U. S. A.

OPM

10

98765432

—

Fiction.

I.

Title.

This book

is

for

Dorothy Trebilcock because she often

tries to

solve

baffling mysteries with me.

Contents The Challenge

1

The Escaped Convict

4

The Scene

9

An

Is

Set

Invisible Passenger

As Safe

13

as a Sinking Ship

21

26

Mysterious Intruder Telltale

32

Evidence

The Witnesses Speak

36

A

Peculiar Story

40

A

Trunkful of Lies

45

Man

50

Overboard

Empty Waters

56

Wild Ideas

60

Parade of Suspects

64

A

67

Plea for Help

vu

The Challenge need your help. If you like mysteries and you think you're pretty at solving them, then you're the person who can help me. My name is Flee Jay Saylor and I'm twelve years, six months, and ten days old. My whole life I've wanted to be a detective. I've wanted to solve a mystery that had baffled everybody else in the I

good

entire world.

The

incredible thing

is

that

I

really

had the chance

to

do

it.

Last

spring a prisoner escaped from jail and tried to get out of Michigan

by taking a car ferry to Wisconsin. I was on that car ferry. Norris Rawlings suddenly appeared and then he vanished. A lot of mysterious things happened in between, but they never made any sense to me. They did to Clarice. She's my ten-year-old sister, and she drives me bonkers. One minute she talks like Einstein discussing the laws of energy, and the next minute she's saying, "Nanny, nanny, boo, boo. You can't do what I do." Life with a child genius is difficult. It's been even more difficult since she solved that mystery on the car ferry. "You'll never be a real detective, Flee Jay," she keeps telling me. "You don't have the brains. I figured out the right answers last spring because I used logic just the way a real detective would." "Nobody normal could have figured out that case," I tell her.

"You only solved

it because you're so blasted nosy." "Nanny, nanny, boo, boo. You can't do what I do," she answers. The last time she said that to me, I had this sudden idea. What if I wrote about the whole mystery exactly the way it happened? What if I wrote about everything we saw and heard during that ferry trip? What if I put down every clue and every suspicion, and I described every character? Then a reader could be right there the way we were, and have a chance to solve the mystery exactly the way we did. If readers end up as confused as I was, I'll know it was just an accident that Clarice solved the case. You're reading this book now, so you must like mysteries. You must be smart enough to find some answers too. I wonder if you would be able to figure out how and why Norris Rawlings did the things he did on that car ferry last spring. If I tell you everything,

for sure that

1

have a chance to figure it all out too. That would be fair, wouldn't it? Then you could be there exactly like a real detective, exactly the way we were. I guess I'd better tell you all about us first, so you'll get the full picture. Even though Clarice and I are sisters, we're not at all alike. Clarice is the female version of King Midas in that old fairy tale. I mean that everything she touches seems to turn to gold. When she talks to adults, she says exactly the right thing, and if she sees a you'll

on the sidewalk,

glitter

it's

usually a quarter.

My tongue seems to get tangled when I talk to anyone over twelve, and and

my glitters on the sidewalks all turn out to be bottle caps. I

Clarice

don't look alike either. She always looks sparkly and shiny.

Her knees and elbows never get scraped, and she never has to worry about her complexion. She's exactly the right weight and height for her age. Physically speaking, Clarice is perfect. Can you believe this? Her name actually means "bright." I'm a long way from perfect, and as you've probably noted, my name is rather strange. Just before I was born, my mother was reading a novel that had a heroine

named

Felice Jennifer, so that's

what she named me. That's not so bad for somebody story, but in real life,

in a

romance

who

people get nicknames, especially people

more ample than usual. As soon as I started to grow (breathing oxygen makes me gain weight), my parents saw that "Filly" would be a terrible nickname for me, so they started calling me Flee Jay. It's a good thing. I'm not keen on being called Flee Jay, but it's are

than being

a

lot better

I

don't want

it

Weight, you see, anything.

I

named

mean,

I

lot

is

may

look like one, but

a problem for me. I'm not really gross or

I

of waste in

much

attached to

But a

lot

my

I

couldn't pose for one of those "before" ads for

weight-loss clinics. But

There's a

for a horse.

advertised.

my

couldn't pose for an "after" picture either.

my

waist, and

my

thighs are a

little

too

weigh a bit more than the average. of those pounds come from all the metal I'm wearing on knees.

So

I

teeth.

The

clothes

I

wear are probably

like the

ones you have on.

I

like

blue jeans and shirts, jogging shoes and plain socks. Clarice likes

and black buckle shoes. She has lace on her on her sleeves, and lace on her anklets. If she had any

lace, pink dresses,

collars, lace

more

lace, she'd

be mistaken for a walking

doily.

She has dimples, I have pimples. Her hair hangs in long golden mine frizzes up like a rusty scouring pad. But I'm gradually fixing up all those surface problems. When my braces come off and my face clears up and I lose a little weight, I'll be doing just fine. So now that you know the two of us, I'll tell you exactly what happened. I'll give this report a title, just like a real book: The Case of the Vanishing Villain. Don't read the ending first, because that would be cheating. I'll be fair with you if you'll be fair with me. I'll give you every clue we found and some we only suspected. I'll try to make you feel the fear and the misty eeriness creeping around that car ferry as we bungled our way across Lake Michigan with an escaped convict on board. I might exaggerate a little bit, because I was so scared; I'm admitting that right now. But even so, I know I won't be able to have you feel the full emotions I felt. Still, though, you'll be able to turn back pages to check on clues, and I couldn't do that in real life. I'm going to come right out and give you some important facts too. It took Clarice and me a long time to find out about all the other passengers, for instance, but I'm going to introduce them to you in nice, easy order. You can see that I'm going to help you all I can. I'm even going to wish you good luck in getting the right answer now, as you begin to read this story. I can do that because I feel pretty sure that you're going to need splendor,

it.

So

.

.

.

Good

luck!

The Escaped Convict "It's

fun to be up in the middle of the night."

my

shadows of the waiting room Even at this awful hour, Clarice looked as perky as a parakeet with a new mirror. I was wilted and wrinkled, but she was prim and perfect. She peered up at me from beneath her straight bangs. "Don't you think so, Flee Jay?" "Not unless you're a vampire," I told her. Frowning, I clutched our canvas overnight bag more tightly against my chest and stared out the window. The fog was so thick I could barely see the lights of the Soaring Seagull docked just a few dozen yards ahead. The foghorn was moaning and the mist was swirling across the graveled yard. There was a damp, fishy smell mingling with the aroma of diesel oil, and I felt as grumpy as one of the Seven Dwarfs. I'm I

stared at

in the

sister in the flickering

Grand Channel

car-ferry dock.

usually a cheerful, fun person. But not before dawn.

on the wooden bench and wondered how many thousands of passengers had sat there waiting for passage to Wisconsin before us. Probably none of them had been as grouchy as I was. But then none of them ever had to put up with a sister like I

shifted position

Clarice at that hour either.

She nudged ticket counter.

me and nodded "What do you

at the

closed door behind the empty

think Mr. Woolsey

is

doing

in there

with those policemen?" Yawning, I shrugged. Right after

Mom had left, I had noticed two policemen had come inside, but I hadn't much cared. "Want to go listen at the keyhole?" Clarice whispered. "Honestly!" I glared at her. "You are absolutely the nosiest person the whole wide world!" She sniffed. "Not really. You couldn't possibly know just how

that

in

nosy the other four billion seven hundred sixty-one million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine people in the world are."

"What?" I said. "What?" She stood up and carefully smoothed down her wrinkled, but Clarice is superneat. She always says

dress.

It

wasn't look

my clothes

like they

were

came from

in the

world

a ragbag. "That's

at last

how many

other people there

count," she told me.

numbers with Clarice would be empty Lake Michigan with a teaspoon. I watched her pick up the huge black purse she had bought at a yard sale for ten cents (definitely overpriced, in my opinion). It was shiny and black, with rhinestones on the handle. Clarice liked it because it was big enough to hold all her notebooks and her small bottle of rubbing I

didn't argue. Arguing about

like trying to

down and files it in alphabetical She uses the alcohol to disinfect things when we travel. "I'm going to the ladies' room," she said. I leaned back as she went into the tiny room next to the ticket office. Her purse dangled nearly to her knees, a portable library encased in black plastic. I was sure her fact about world population was in one of the notebooks crammed inside. She even had a flashlight rattling around on the bottom. If the electricity ever failed, she could read anyway. My own purse was small and sensible, stocked with useful things like combs, brushes, and beauty aids. Unfortunately, none of them worked. The waiting room was drafty. I shivered and studied the calendar hanging on the wall. It made me think of Mom, because it was from the Grand Channel Bank, and that was where she worked. alcohol. Clarice writes everything

order.

I don't get a bit of sleep, I'll never be able to count money morning," she had told us a few minutes earlier. "Would you girls mind if I went on home? Mr. Woolsey said he'd be sure that you get on board all right." "Yes, indeed, ma'am, you can be sure of that!" Mr. Woolsey had nearly saluted when he told Mom that. He's been the steward on the Soaring Seagull for years and years. Even in the middle of the night he looked all spiffy and shiny in his navy-blue uniform. The first time I had seen him, I had thought he was a general in an army somewhere. His gold buttons glittered, and he stuck his chest out far enough to threaten the threads that held them. The crease in his pants could have cut through butter. The captain and the other crew members looked positively frumpy beside him. "I'm so sorry I woke you too early," Mom had said as she started

"If

this

to leave.

"They'll be fine, fine," Mr. Woolsey repeated loudly, hovering

over us, rubbing his hands, adjusting his hat, and patting his bushy mustache. "We won't be having too many passengers this early in the shipping season. Why, I'll be able to keep both eyes on them all

the

way

across the lake!"

Mom

wasn't sure I wanted even one eye on me, but looked grateful. "Their grandparents will be at the dock in Milwaukee. I've purchased tickets with a stateroom, so the girls can sleep the whole I

way

if

they want to."

nobody heard me. Clarice was saying because she wanted to test early-spring wind velocity and humidity on one of the Great Lakes. I should have known she'd want to test something or other. There wouldn't be much sleep for me. Even if she didn't talk my ears off, there would be the scratching of her pencil in rhythm to the rise and fall of the waves. had finally left, sure that Mr. Woolsey was going to watch our every move. The moment the door closed behind her, he sat right down next to us, all eager to do his duty. "So! Do you young ladies have boyfriends?" Before Clarice had had a chance to give she has plenty to give away, and she him a piece of her mind "Fat chance!"

I

said, but

that she didn't plan to sleep,

Mom

—

does

it

often, especially

men had come

when people ask about boys

—

the police-

in.

I glanced toward the closed door now, and I wondered what was going on inside. They had been talking to Mr. Woolsey and the ticket agent for a long time. It would have been fun to think about something exciting happening, but Grand Channel isn't exactly a hotbed of crime. Our police don't do much except give out tickets for parking or barking, depending on whether you have a car or a

dog. Just as

I

was

staring at the door,

the fatter policeman said.

it

opened. "We'll be outside,"

He and Mr. Woolsey might have been

bookends, except that Mr. Woolsey was a bit shinier. "I'll go up and talk to the captain myself." Mr. Woolsey looked all flushed and important. He smoothed down his mustache and adjusted his hat as the ticket agent went behind his counter again and the policemen walked outside. "Important business," Mr. Woolsey said to me. "Some important

business. Don't you bother your pretty

little

head about

it,

young

lady."

worry about Mr. Woolsey's eyesight when opened again and two old people came in. He hurried over to beam at them. Long ago I had figured out that a ship steward's most important duty is beaming. Mr. Woolsey was good at that. "Flee Jay!" Clarice slid onto the seat beside me. Her voice was all trembly, and her eyes were sparkling. She was grinning from ear to ear. "Guess what, Flee Jay, guess what!" "The bathroom had soap, hot water, and clean towels," I anI

was

just starting to

the door

swered, because that was the kind of thing that

when we

made Clarice

happiest

traveled.

"No," she whispered, scooting even closer to me. I could smell had probably used to kill germs in the bathroom. "There might be an escaped criminal in Grand Channel!"

the rubbing alcohol she

I

stared at her. "You're crazy."

"I

mean

it,"

she said. "That's

why

the

policemen were here.

A

prisoner escaped from a jail sixty miles from here, and they think he's going to try to get out of Michigan.

He might

try to take this

car ferry over to Wisconsin!"

"What prisoner?" I asked. "What jail?" "His name is Norris Rawlings. He stole cars and robbed grocery stores. Anyway, he was in the Junction County Jail, waiting to be taken to the state prison after his

hours ago.

trial,

and he escaped just a few

Nobody knows which way he went."

1 leaned closer to her. This was exMr. Woolsey was busy talking to the old couple, so I glanced toward the open door leading to the office. "Are the police here to see if he gets on this car ferry?" "Yes," Clarice said, her voice all gaspy. "This Norris Rawlings might try to get on the same boat we're getting on!" My heart started hammering. All my whole life I'd dreamed that I might solve a crime that had baffled all the police force, exactly the way detectives do in books and on television shows. I got all excited thinking that maybe / would be the one to find out where this prisoner was headed. Then I came back to reality. This was dull old Grand Channel, and sometimes Clarice thinks she hears

"Really, Clarice? Really?"

citing

news,

all

more than she

right!

really hears.

"You're making

it

all

up."

"No, I'm not," she whispered. "I heard every word they said in there. Honest I did." "How?" I asked. "You were in the bathroom. You weren't anywhere near the keyhole." She clutched her purse handle and wiggled her feet back and forth. "Can't a person accidentally overhear something? If she's in a room right next to another room, can't she accidentally hear what's being said?" I looked toward the ladies' bathroom. ticket agent's office. "Through the wall?"

It I

was

right next to the

whispered.

"Through the air vent near the ceiling," she whispered back. My mouth dropped open. "But that vent is way over your head. How could you accidentally overhear anything through there?" "I stood in the sink," she said, carefully patting her bangs into place.

"Honestly!" I moaned and stared at her. "Clarice, one of these days you're going to get into a real mess because you're so nosy." "I did already," she answered. "Just look at my anklets. One of the faucets dripped on the lace, and now "All right, now," Mr. Woolsey suddenly shouted in our direction.

—

He looked like a general commanding his troops. "You young ladies can get on board. I'll have you settled before the other passengers arrive. I promised your mother I'd see about you, but we have some other mighty important things to think about before we leave, you know." We knew, all right. But Mr. Woolsey had no idea just exactly how much it was that we knew.

8

The Scene

Is

Set

My skin felt all creepy and crawly as we walked across the dock toward the Soaring Seagull. The fog was clammy, and I was half hoping and half fearing that the escaped prisoner was lurking in the shadows all ready to jump out at us. The fish smell was even stronger now, and I could hear the water sloshing against the poles in the harbor.

As we drew made me wear

closer to the dock

I

shivered, glad that

Mom

had

a jacket even though I'd complained. Clarice was

bundled up in a bulky white sweater. She wore it all the time, it never seemed to get dirty. Mr. Woolsey unlocked the chain fence blocking the entrance ramp. Then he took a stateroom key from the little shed there on the dock. "You two girls will be in room four," he said, handing the key to Clarice. "I'll wait here until you get on board. The lounge is empty now, so you can sit in there or go right to your stateroom." "We're going to wait on deck awhile," Clarice told him. She all

but

stuffed the key, with

its

plastic holder, into her black bag.

bounced onto the gangplank, and the loud thud echoed I

felt

the

She

in the mist.

wooden boards sag under my weight

Since the cargo deck struggle up a

ramp

is at

as I followed her. water level, the passengers all have to

to get to the

main deck.

clutched the swinging rope guardrail with one hand and our canvas bag with the other. "You'd think they could come up with I

way to get people on board," moved toward the ship. a better

I

muttered as Clarice and

I

"The Soaring Seagull is one of the best ships operating between Michigan and Wisconsin," Clarice declared. "It has the finest "This ramp soars faster than the ship does." I felt dizzy from the smells and the swaying. "I may be seasick even before we get on

—

board."

"No, you won't. Dad says

that Saylors

never get seasick."

two steps and hoisted dropped our bag and grabbed the deck rail. The metal felt cold and wet under my hand, but at least the floor wasn't moving back and forth. "That's just a joke."

I

staggered up the

myself on board the ship.

I

9

last

"What's a joke?" Bouncing up beside me, Clarice whirled around and waved to Mr. Woolsey down below. In the dim light I could see her gold hair swing and then arrange itself in perfect order. My hair had turned into a damp frizzle the minute the fog hit it, and now it simply frizzled more. "It's a joke about our name. Say lor is our name, and a sailor is a person who sails on boats. But one doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the other. See what I mean?" "No." I

sighed. Trying to explain a joke to Clarice

a turtle to use a toothbrush.

is

like trying to get

She simply doesn't see a need

for one.

She's so logical that she has to find a purpose in everything, even puns.

She nudged me. "Mr. Woolsey wants you to wave too. See? He's waving at us." "Astronauts on the moon could see him waving at us," I told her. Looking down, I moved my hand back and forth, like Queen Elizabeth in a parade. Clarice was waving bye-bye like a baby does. It was strange seeing all the people below gathering on the dock. The harbor lights made blurry yellow holes in the fog, and everyone seemed to be moving in a hazy underwater dimness down below. Only the metal caught the reflection of the bright lights strung all across the yard. I saw Mr. Woolsey 's uniform buttons glitter, and when the two policemen near him turned a certain way, their badges reflected the glare too.

"See?" Clarice whispered. "Those men are going to watch all the come on board. I heard them describe that Norris Rawlings. He's short and skinny. Only five feet two, and just a bit over a hundred pounds." She turned to me. "That's way below the national average, you know. Men here are lots bigger, although in Asia "Maybe he'll try to get on board with the crew or the cargo," I said, "and nobody will see him." Clarice shook her head. "Mr. Woolsey called the captain from the ticket office. The whole crew will be on watch." I slumped. All my fantasies about being a great detective seemed dumb. If the entire crew was going to search for a possible stowaway, why did I think I might find him? Besides, with those policemen passengers

—

lO

watching every passenger come on board, there wasn't a chance an escaped prisoner would try to sneak on. "I'll bet Norris Rawlings isn't going to try to get out of Michigan on a car ferry," I mumbled. "I'll bet he's heading for Chicago in a nice heated car." I sighed and shivered again. "It's getting colder here on deck. Want to go inside the lounge?" "Nope. I'm going to stand here until everybody has come up the that

ramp." I glanced at the lounge door, chained open behind us. The dim lounge lay yawning beyond it. On the dock the crew had started loading the cargo. Cranes were hoisting boxes on board, and the whole boat was shaking as cars clunked and clanked up to the car

deck.

wonder

"I

if they'll

"Remember I

show

a

good movie

in the

the last one?" Clarice grinned. "It

groaned. "It showed the

life

lounge,"

was

I

said.

terrific!"

cycle of a fish, from the egg to

You call that good?" "Sure. Or maybe we could play video games with Mr. Woolsey." "That's worse than the fish," I mumbled. "It's going to be hard having him flutter over us like a mother hen this whole trip." the dinner plate.

"A I

rooster," Clarice said.

glared at her. "I

know

"Hens

are female."

Honestly, Clarice, can't you

that!

—

"Mr. Woolsey just unchained the fence," she told me. "Let's watch all these passengers, just in case one of them is a short man who weighs around a hundred pounds." "Anybody who is that skinny ought to be in jail," I mumbled, but Clarice was too busy arranging her notebook to listen. She licked the tip of her pencil. "Looks like Mr. Woolsey didn't rent all the staterooms this trip." I

shrugged.

germs

It

always annoys

me that Clarice is so afraid of getting wherever we go, yet she licks her

that she lugs disinfectant

pencil tips that way.

Maybe

she has to do

because she writes so keep it from melting. Down below, Mr. Woolsey was tipping his hat at a few people moving toward the ship. Passengers who rent staterooms get to come on board first, so he has a ceremony to make them feel special. Mom had rented a stateroom for us, but I don't know why I don't need to feel special. The lounge had everything we needed fast

and furious

it

that she has to cool the lead to

—

11

—

television set, plenty of plastic sofas,

some game

tables,

and a well-

Who

needs anything else? She says she needs her privacy. It's for does. she says Clarice never gives any to anybody else. she values it she sure that stateroom has a porthole," she told me now. our that "I'm glad hide inside those little rooms. All the place to any "There isn't stocked snack

bar.

—

staterooms with bathrooms will be across the hall from us."

"Don't worry." I folded my arms and stared at the first figure moving onto the ramp. I was sure there wouldn't be any prisoner hiding on board, but I was secretly hoping there might be a few cute boys making the trip.

^s>;

12

An

Passenger

Invisible

woman was shouting through the mist. Our first passenger was hurrying behind a yipping dog. He was one of those long-haired little ones whose teeth and eyes stick out. His leash was dragging behind him, and he was ignoring it the same way he was "Lionel! Lionel!" a

ignoring the shouts from the

woman.

on the deck, the dog ran right up thought he was going to bite me, but he just drooled and snarled around my kneecaps. The woman hurried on deck and grabbed him into her arms. "Are you all right?" she asked.

As soon

to

my

as his toenails clicked

knees.

"Yes, but

I

—

"

started to tell her.

I

Then

I

realized that she

was

talking to her dog.

"Poor Lionel," she said, hoisting the dog up to her shoulder. She balanced his feet on her travel bag as she marched to the open lounge door. Lionel snarled at me over her shoulder until they were both out of sight. "I

would have

braces,"

I

bitten him, but

I

didn't

want

to get hair in

my

told Clarice.

She was scribbling into her notebook. "Did you see how much two of them looked alike, Flee Jay? Both were little and skinny and crabby, and both had straggly gray hair. Lots of times people have dogs who look like them." I thought of our dog at home, all plump and squat, with short, curly, rusty-colored hair. "I suppose you mean that Ginger and I look alike, huh?" I asked, but two more passengers were coming up the ramp, so Clarice never answered. The man and the woman were the same old couple who had come into the ticket office earlier. In their big coats and hats they looked like explorers dressed for the North Pole. The man had a beard, and he was wearing dark glasses even though the sun hadn't even thought about rising yet. They both were carrying small suitcases. "Can you direct us to room one?" the woman asked. "After you go through the lounge right inside this door, you'll see the corridor to the staterooms," I told her. "Room one is the first room on the left when you get into that corridor." the

"Go

through the lounge!" the

man 13

shouted. Clarice nearly dropped

14

her notebook the left

at the

when we

sudden booming noise.

The woman smiled band

is

"It's the first

room on

get into the stateroom corridor!" in

my

direction.

half blind," she said, "so

we

"I'm half deaf and

my

hus-

help each other."

As they went into the lounge Clarice leaned closer to me. "They're

—

Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spratt because "I know why," I interrupted. I was just about to tell her that I didn't need all her constant explaining, when a little kid started like

yelling.

A woman

was coming on board, and she had a baby strapped to She was carrying a large suitcase. Even in the fog I could her back. was worn and tired. "You're okay, Jason," she was her face see that saying. "You're okay."

He

because he was screaming and holif the shipping company had heard him, they might have dumped the foghorn and hired the baby. When he saw me looking at him, he flung back his arm and threw the stateroom key he had in his hand. It bounced on the metal deck. "Oh, Jason!" the woman said. As she bent to get the key the baby's face was even with mine, so I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue. He was so surprised he stopped shrieking. He was still staring at me behind his mother's shoulder when they went through the door. I learned to do this trick when I baby-sat with the kid next door to us. It's my theory that babies get sick of people smiling at them and so they fuss because they're bored. They like seeing new expres-

seem

didn't

to think so,

lering with a voice so loud that

sions.

A priest and two strangely dressed women straggled up next.

The plump man who was walking with real purpose. I could see that he knew exactly where he was going in this life as well as in the next. He used too much hair spray on his bushy hair, priest

was a

though.

It

short,

almost looked like plastic as he passed under the overhead

light.

The two women were wearing robes

that resembled long gray hands and their faces were almost completely covered. wasn't sure what country they were from, but I didn't want to ask

sheets. Their I

Clarice.

I

knew she'd

the political system

We

it

not only

know

the country, but she'd

had and

all its

major exports

heard the next three passengers before

15

tell

me

too.

we saw them. "Now,

let

me know if you want to stop, let me know. This is heavier

"Just I

know you must be

Mother/' a woman was saying. than we thought it would be, so

tired."

A parade of three females came staggering through the fog.

They

were carrying a long rug, all rolled up and wrapped in paper. All of the women were wearing slacks and jackets, and they were bent over with the weight of what they carried. The woman near us was about the age of my teacher, who was just out of college. I thought the lady in the middle was about forty-five. The one in the back seemed to be the youngest. I stared at the middle-aged woman because she looked so much like the principal in my school. When she spoke, her voice even sounded like Mrs. Bowen's, all high and raspy. She had the same little half-glasses our principal wears, with a chain holding them around her neck. The kids say that Mrs. Bowen would forget her head if it weren't hooked on, and the kindergartners believe that the chain truly does hold her head to her body. I could see right away that this

woman

forgot things too.

"Emily, I'm so worried," she said, panting. "I think purse in Uncle Harold's van."

I

left

my

it here, Mother." The woman in front was right beside saw that she had a purse slung over each shoulder. One was zipped and neat-looking, and the other was baggy and stuffed with so much that papers were hanging every which way. I knew instantly which one belonged to the older woman. She was right beside us now, straining to lug her portion of the carpet. "But rooms five and seven? I forgot to ask if they had

"I

have

us now.

I

And

—

?"

Where did I "Lee Ann has them, Mother. You gave them to her downstairs. And we don't have portholes in our staterooms. You said you wanted

portholes there.

the keys!

the ones with bathrooms."

By

this

time

all

moment, catching

three

women were on

their breath.

Now

I

deck. They paused a could see that the youngest

one had hair as frizzy as mine, so I felt instant sympathy for her. I knew that the woman named Emily probably was her sister, and she seemed to have hair as perfect as Clarice's. I wondered if she was a genius too. I moved closer to them. "Do you need any help carrying that rug?"

16

Emily shook her head. "No. No, thanks." Her mother hadn't heard me. "Just think, girls. We paid half as much in Grand Rapids for this Oriental rug as we would have had to pay in Milwaukee. Wasn't this a marvelous bargain, LeeAnn?"

LeeAnn shrugged. I could see that she wasn't about buying something for the house, so I knew thing in

all that thrilled

we had

another

common.

Clarice pointed her pencil at their purchase.

"You could have put

down in the cargo area." "Good heavens, no!" The oldest woman jerked

that

this carpet right beside

want even if it was the same, but we can manage, we can

me.

We

to a stop. "I

paid a fortune for

it

on sale. Thank you just manage." Panting, she lifted her third of the rug a bit higher, but it still seemed to sag. "Let's go, girls. Oh my! I hope I put that scarf in

my

purse.

When we

left

—

Mother." Emily glanced back at me with a hopeless bumped and thumped their way into the lounge. A tall, nervous- looking man came hurrying up the ramp next. He had a suit and tie on, but he looked damp and wrinkled. He had a long beard stubble too, like my dad gets when he decides he won't shave on weekends. He was flapping his hands and shouting to two men who were lugging a huge trunk up the ramp behind him. They could hardly keep the trunk from hitting the deck. It looked as though the big man had chosen the skinniest, weakest crew members to lug his luggage aboard. "Hurry up, men," he was saying. "There's a big tip for you if you get that trunk to my stateroom without any damage." The crewmen clunked the trunk down right in front of me. One man wiped his forehead with a dirty cloth, while the other stood trying to catch his breath. "He's got a trunkful of rocks," he whispered to me. "Can you beat that? Carrying rocks to Wisconsin to study, he told me." He bent to lift the trunk again. "Ah well, at "I

have

it,

look. Gradually they

room two isn't that much farther." The whistle on the top deck sounded then, nearly blasting our eardrums out of order. At the same instant Mr. Woolsey unchained least

the other exit

on the dock so

that the

lounge passengers could

come

on board. Clarice and

I

stepped back as they

17

all

trooped past us. There were

about thirty people, and they were

all sizes,

ages, races, and genders.

Most of them looked sleepy and damp, and

all

of them carried

suitcases, travel bags, or blankets.

said I'd be fair with you as I wrote down everything. I can't you exactly who these people with lounge tickets were, but it doesn't matter. Here's the absolute truth: Norris Rawlings did not come on board with any of the lounge passengers, so you can forget I

tell

all

about them.

There wasn't a single cute boy among the whole crowd, so I forgot them, too. But unbeknownst to us right then, Norris Rawlings was now on board.

18

A

Quick Review of the Characters As Seen by Flee Jay Saylor, Girl

Flee Jay Saylor

Detective an almost-thirteen-year-old

who

has a few temporary flaws but otherwise absolutely perfect a ten-year-old genius

Clarice Saylor

who

is

drives

normal people bonkers Mr. Woolsey

a ship steward

who

looks and acts

like a general

Mrs. Potter

a thin older

woman who

loves her

dog a dog

Lionel

who

tries to

bark his head

off but unfortunately never suc-

ceeds

Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spratt

a couple dressed for the North Pole

Jason

a bored baby

Jason's mother

a tired

Two

nameless

women

woman

people dressed in clothing from another culture

The

priest

Mrs. Wiggins

a

man who knows

a

woman who would

head

if

it

what's what forget her

weren't attached to her

body

Mother of

who who

Emily Wiggins LeeAnn Wiggins

19

is

older

is

younger

man

Mr. Dillman

a

Norris Rawlings

the astonishing escaped convict

with a secret

who

is able to move through locked doors, prisons, walls, and halls while remaining absolutely

invisible

PLUS

a cast of dozens of others!

20

As Safe as a Sinking Ship As soon

was loaded, the crew started untying and The ferry whistle gave another blast. Mr. Woolsey came hurrying up the ramp while men below unlatched it from the dock. "What?" he shouted when he saw us. "Are you girls still out here? It's cold and wet on this deck. You'd better get on inside the as

all

the cargo

tying chains and ropes.

lounge now."

"But we wanted

to see if that

escaped prisoner got on the boat,"

Clarice told him.

Her words stopped him cold. I mean, he froze. Usually Mr. Woolsey is in constant motion. He waves his hands, he talks a lot, and he's extra big everywhere, so something is always in action, even if it's only his chin. But now he stood staring at us without moving a muscle. Then his mustache started quivering over his open mouth, a nervous caterpillar hanging over an open pit. "What? What 're you talking about?" "We accidentally heard the police telling you about Norris Rawlings." Clarice tucked her notebook back into her huge purse. "We wondered if he might try to get out of Michigan by stowing away on this car ferry." Mr. Woolsey 's eyes and buttons popped as he drew a deep breath. "But I didn't want the passengers to even hear of such a suspicion! Especially you two girls. I don't want anybody frightened! I told those policemen that

—

"But we aren't scared at all," I interrupted. "We watched everybody get on board," Clarice said. "We don't think he came up with any of the passengers." Mr. Woolsey straightened. "Of course not! And he didn't get on with the crew either, so there's no need to worry." He cleared his throat, then bent closer. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this business to anybody else, girls. People can He was stopped by another big blast from the car ferry. The whole boat started shaking and groaning. Quickly he unlatched the lounge door, then looked back at us. "Coming inside now?" I zipped my jacket tighter, because I knew the best part of the

—

21

would take place in the next minutes and I wanted to stay right where I was. "We'll be inside soon." As the lounge door slammed shut behind him, I grabbed the railing in front of me. Clarice took hold of the railing too, and we both looked out toward the dock. I'm not sure exactly what Clarice thinks, but I love the sound and the feel of floating off into the water on a huge ship. No matter how many times I've been through it, I always think the boat will sink the minute we leave the dock. Feeling it grab the water and begin to skim across the waves is like watching an elephant suddenly jump up and begin dancing ballet. It seems absolutely impossible, but absolutely terrific. I don't want to talk to Clarice about it because she'd tell me all about volume and buoyancy. As we started inching out into the harbor, the hull rubbed against the wooden supports of the pier. There was a terrible screeching sound, like a woman screaming, as we scraped the huge posts. Under our feet the deck shook and the huge motors roared. Then we were free of the land and moving off into Lake Michigan. As the harbor lights faded in the mist, the huge metal clamp which had been lifted so that freight could be stored below was trip

loosened.

It

made

a wild shrieking sound, metal against metal, as

The whole ship shuddered. were going faster, speeding through the darkness, through the waves, the water sloshing against the sides of the boat. The fog was still thick, but I could easily see the yellow eye of the lighthouse over on our left. A few harbor lights flickered faintly in the fog, growing smaller as we moved. The foghorn was moaning and the ferry whistle blasted one more time. Then we left the land and were on the open water. I took a deep breath and relaxed, glad that Clarice had been quiet for a few moments. "Now we can go inside," I told her. She nodded and stuffed her notebook into her purse as I bent to get our canvas bag. When we stepped into the lounge, I was glad no cute boys had decided to travel to Milwaukee. I felt damp and wrinkled, and I it

fell to

secure the cargo deck.

Now we

could

my

tell

my

efforts

hair

was a

frizzled mess.

I

patted

it

down, but

I

knew

were hopeless.

For a moment I stood blinking in the doorway. After the darkness of the deck outside, I needed to get my eyes back to normal. The huge room looked like the waiting area of an all-night bus depot. People were flopped all over the plastic sofas and chairs,

22

most of them trying to sleep. There was a smell of stale cigarette smoke and old coffee. Straight ahead of us I saw the corridor leading to the staterooms. Over to the left there was a snack bar, but it was closed now. open at 7 o'clock, the sign there said. I knew that meant Wisconsin time, so it would be hours before I could get a candy bar. My stomach felt hollower just thinking about the long wait.

Clarice nodded at the chairs lined up in front of the television

over to our right. "They'll be starting that movie soon. Going watch?" Yawning, I glanced at my watch. It was 5:20 Michigan time, 4:20 Wisconsin time. We'd been up for over an hour, and it was still dark outside. I tried to see out the lounge windows, but it was like trying to peer into a black fishbowl. "Let's take our bag to our stateroom first. What room are we in?" Clarice dangled our key. "We're in room four. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spratt are in room one, the lady and her two daughters are in rooms five and seven, the mother with her baby is in room nine, and the priest is in room six. The lady with the dog is in room eight, and that man with the heavy trunk is in room two. Those foreign women are in room three or ten, and the other one is empty." "What?" I pulled our bag off my shoulder and stared at her. "How'd you know all that?" Clarice tossed her head, and her long hair, already miraculously straight and dry despite her recent turban of fog, fell into obedient lines. "You were there you ought to know. If you paid more attention to what's going on, you might "No lectures, please. How'd you know?" She talked as we moved through the lounge. "The woman with the dog was waving her stateroom key when she bent to get Lionel, so I saw it. The old couple asked where room one was. Little Jason threw their key right at our feet. While you were sticking your tongue out at him, I looked at it. The lady who forgot everything said she and her daughters were going to rooms five and seven. The priest had his key stuck up right there in his hand. The man carrying that big trunk said they were taking it to room two. You and I are in room four. The only two staterooms left are rooms three and ten, so those women in the sheets have to be in one of them. The other room is empty." set

to

—

—

23

Crews

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